Peggy made the ‘hm?’ noise, then they both read for a while longer, then Peggy leaned back and breathed out in one long, heavy sigh. ‘I really don’t think it matters,’ she said.

‘Yeah,’ Greta said.

‘Neither of us wants to, though,’ said Peggy.

‘No,’ Greta said.

‘I’ll flip you for it,’ said Peggy finally, and she got a coin out of the small bowl that sat beside the computer.

Peggy flipped the coin. It turned over and over in the air – heads, tails, heads, tails – until it landed.

‘Heads,’ they said together, and Greta said, ‘Okay. Okay. That seems fair.’

‘If you do this,’ Peggy waved her hand in a circle in front of the screen. ‘Then you can fix that coding for that other contract.’

Greta nodded. They were out of practice. So they kept checking in with each other like this. They’d hated it last time, when they were in their thirties – the chatter had agitated them – but it was quite nice now. Having someone to actively sound things out with. They were both getting older, fuzzier. Margaret had started talking to herself. Making ridiculously complex lists and checking them off, like a meditation. A few times in the last year she’d forgotten about big things and people had reminded her and she’d been able to cover it up, but they were not as sharp as they had been, and it was not a good way to be – especially not with the work they did. People already assumed they were out of date. They never were, but people just assumed it when they walked into a room, which was why they tried to walk into a room as little as possible. They were checking in with each other occasionally and it was nice. They were bouncing things off each other, and the office had a nice feel to it.

About midday, they were hungry and decided to break for lunch. They made sandwiches out of the tofu spread and salad in the fridge. They’d been making buckwheat bread for the last few months and it was in the fridge when they looked. There was enough of everything for both of them. They’d never got used to providing for just one of them.